


Hounds Hankering

by Mardybambam



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Bakery AU, F/M, Joffrey is a dick, Modern AU, sandor is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8871628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mardybambam/pseuds/Mardybambam
Summary: Sandor owns a tiny bakery in downtown Kingslanding but he can't afford the rent. His most loyal (and only) customer offers to help drum up business.¦or the one where Sandor is a grumpy baker and Sansa is his new partner





	1. Spider Monkey

The sun had been beaming down on Kings Landing all summer. The streets were streaming with people, teen girls with most of their legs on show and young men sauntering with their chests out. The stench of sun cream filled the air and produced a sickening smell as it mixed with the pungent odour of sweat. A petite woman with short brown hair was trying, unsuccessfully, to convince a toddler that he didn’t really want the action figure in the shop window. She had one hand holding onto the boy, the other was being used to hold a huge dog back.

‘Caelum please’ Arya begged, ‘Sansa is waiting for us. Nymeria sit!’

‘but mummy its Uncle Bran’ Caelum frowned, his feet firmly planted to the pavement, his nose pressed against the shop window.

‘No honey, it's Brandon the builder’

‘Uncle BranBran!’

Arya shot an exasperated glare down the road, searching for her partner, with relief clear in her steel eyes she scooped her son into her arms and dashed across the road to Gendry. Nymeria seemed relieved to be moving again and when Arya pulled to a stop she let out a huff of indignation.

‘Daaaaddddddddyyyyy’ Caelum leaped from his mother's arms and into his fathers, emitting a yelp of surprise from Arya and a large exhale of air from Gendry, ‘Mummy won’t buy me Uncle Bran’

Caelum had been told numerous times that the figure with the large hammer and chisel was not his uncle Bran but regardless he just continued to refer to Brandon the builder as uncle Bran.

‘You have a whole box full of Brandon's at home Cael’ Gendry ruffled his hair but placed him on the ground quickly, ‘Where’s Sansa’s place?’

Sansa had invited Arya and Gendry to come see her new place, luring them in with the promise of __‘the most delicious lemon cake I have ever tasted’.__ Sansa had moved back to Winterfell,after she realised that Joffrey was a downright beast of a man -no boy, he did not deserve to be called a man, but now she had decided that it was time to move past her fears of the city and return. Sansa had chosen a small two bed flat near the centre of town.Ned Stark was the CEO of Stark industrial enterprise so all of the Stark children had large trust funds that they could fall back on but they had to get their parents permission to spend a large amount, so they all had either had jobs or were still students. Jon had ran off to join the army not long after he had turned 18, leaving Robb to take over the family business. Arya and Gendry both had art exhibits opening in King Landing University, where Bran was studying political Science. Rickon, the little horror, was spending the summer at some super exclusive military school, hoping to one day follow in his older brother’s footsteps. Everyone knew what they were doing with their lives, or at least the rest of the year, whereas Sansa had dropped out of College twice before deciding to start up her own business just like her father, but unlike her father Sansa’s attempts had not gone to plan, she had attempted being a florist, a model, a dancer, a musician, none of it felt right to her so she moved on. Her latest attempt was an event manager, and it actually seemed to be going well.

Sansa had just finished a meeting with a potential customer and was currently trying to baby proof her whole apartment, remembering the story of how when Arya took Caelum to visit Robb he had managed to climb up a bookshelf and jump off, breaking his collar bone.

There was an insistent knock on the door forcing Sansa to abandon her attempt at taping bubble wrap around all the table edges. It was half three, half an hour after Arya was meant to be there, but by her standards, she was early. The door was swung open, revealed a smiling Arya and a tired looking Gendry, but no Caelum. Sansa ushered them in, quickly diverting Nymeria into the kitchen, where she couldn’t wreck too much.

As if appearing out of nowhere, Sansa’s nephew head popped out from behind his dad's shoulder, an impish grin lighting up his face, ‘Sansa!’ He leapt at her, quickly nestling into her willing hugs.

‘Hiya Spider monkey’ She walks her fingers up his arm being rewarded a delighted giggle as she tickled his stomach. ‘you been giving daddy hell?’

‘Like always’ Gendry runs his hand through his hair, pushing the locks out of her face, ‘didn’t you promise cake’

‘yeah I distinctly remember being promised cake’ Arya pipes up from her seat on the couch, ‘specifically lemon cake’

‘Okay okay’ Sansa rolls her eyes at their antics, ‘They come from this tiny bakery just round the corner, I haven’t been to get them yet but I can run there now’

‘no no-’ Gendry was cut off by a deep yawn

‘How about I take monkey boy with me and give you two a rest’

‘You really don’t have to Sans’

‘You are obviously exhausted’ Arya was already snoring slightly, Gendry following shortly after, ‘isn’t mummy and daddy silly, going to sleep without their jimjams’

‘naughty mummy! Naughty daddy!’ The boy chanted, slapping his hands against Sansa’s back.

Sansa made short work of strapping Cael into the pushchair she kept for instances like this, he gifted her with an angered frown that was immediately replaced with a look of docile innocence when Sansa mentioned chocolate cake. The bakery was a short walk away but Sansa changed into a light sundress for the journey, knowing that the baggy jogging bottoms would be suffocating in the sun, and pulled a cap over Caelum’s dark curls.

The walk to the bakery was pleasant, Caelum provided entertainment with his sarcastic and sometimes frankly rude comments and Sansa would begin to reprimand him but couldn’t make herself sound serious through her own laughter. Despite having changed into more weather-appropriate clothes Sansa was uncomfortable, with a thin sheen of sweat coating her face, but before long they arrived at her beloved bakery, __Untitled.__ It was a quaint building, with flats above it. There was no obvious signs or advertisements outside, just a small open sign in the large window. Inside, the counter had big vintage stands with piles of cakes stacked atop each other and there were a few tables, with mismatching chairs and long draping tablecloths.

After struggling with the door for a few moments, getting Caels pushchair stuck behind it several times, the owner took pity on her and helped.He shook his long hair out of his face, leaving half of it hidden, and motioned for Sansa to stand back so he could open the door without getting her stuck.

‘Thank you’ Sansa smiled apologetically, ‘I haven’t used one of these things in ages’

‘No problem’ The owner mumbled, walking back to the counter‘what are you wanting today?’

‘ do you have to ask’ She flashed a wide grin, ‘As many lemon cakes as you have’

‘Chocolate!’ Cael shouted

‘and a chocolate muffin please’ Sansa rolled her eyes. The owner nodded silently and quickly swept the rest of his hair into a low ponytail, washing his hands with steaming water before using long tongs to take each cake separately. ‘Do you have any ice?’ at his nod she continued, ‘Can I have a lemonade’

‘Course’ He strode to the back room and returned with a tall glass, a snarling dog printed on the front. He asked even though he already knew the answer ‘slice of lime right’

Sansa nodded, shooting a look at the toddler ‘and a squash please’

Releasing Cael from his seat had proved to be a bad idea. Sansa had managed to keep him still for all of five minutes until he had demolished his muffin, leaving a pile of soggy crumbs on the table, after that he began to run around the small store.

The owner, Sandor, had sat with Sansa, offering brief conversation. Since Sansa had moved into the area she had gone to __Untitled__  every day, never seeing another customer, but she was now on familiar terms with the surly owner. While he appeared to be gruff and harsh he was in fact gruff and harsh but also thoughtful and honest, Sansa found him to be pleasant company and was actually enjoying the half an hour she would spend with him.

Sandors hair was still pulled back from his face, exposing the mass of scar tissue on one side. When Sansa had first seen the scars she had been taken aback to put it lightly, the hole where an ear once sat and the places where bone was exposed had been startling and took a while to get used to but , truthfully, Sansa was now so used to them it was as if she was looking at Rickons freckles or Robbs curls.

‘Monkey, get your little butt over here’ Sansa sang to her nephew, holding his glass of juice so he could drink with the straw without pouring it down himself.

Caelum stared up at the monstrous stranger, ‘messy face’ he stated innocently, ‘mummy makes me clean when I have a messy face’

‘Caelum!’ Sansa cries outraged, her nephew gave her the biggest set of puppy dog eyes, unaware that he had said anything rude

‘Its okay little bird’ Sandor gave her a half smile, pulling at the scar tissue gruesomely before turning to the boy, ‘It is pretty messy isn’t is bud, but I can’t clean it off, it’s stuck like that forever now’

‘Forever?’ Caelum walked to him, too much confidence in his small body, and climbed up his legs, into his lap. He reaches a hand up to touch Sandors scared cheek, his big blue eyes growing wide at the feel of the burnt skin beneath his fingertips, ‘It feels funny’

Sandor opens his mouth to reply but was cut off by the front door being swung open, slamming into the wall behind. A young man sauntered into the room, his golden hair reflecting the sun and blinding Sansa and Sandor. Joffreys looked down his nose at the small establishment before his eyes rested on the corner table where the only customers sat with the owner.

‘Look if it isn’t stuck up Sansa’ Joffrey sneered, his lips curling when he saw Sandor, ‘Really went from Prince to beast didn’t you’

Sansa stared at him in silence, her body frozen in fear, only realising what was happening when Sandor lifted Caelum into her lap.

‘I think you should leave’ Sandors voice was low and slow, the threat seemed obvious to Sansa but Joffrey continued to sneer regardless.

‘Believe me I don’t want to spend any more time here than necessary’ Joffrey continued to strut around the room, slamming a letter onto the counter, ‘This is the final warning Dog, pay us by Monday or this place is ours’ without another word, after throwing scathing looks at both Sandor and Sansa, swept back out with his nose high in the air.

Sandor growled out several curses, sweeping one muscled arm across the counter. Glass smashed and food was ruined on the floor. The shop was all Sandor owned in the world, he slept in the flat above but couldn’t pay for the rent on either. He would spend all morning in his flat, baking with his sister and then when she went to school he would open the bakery and wait for Sansa to arrive, he knew that no one else would come in. There had been a few customers in the beginning but his surly attitude and jacked up face sent them all packing quickly.Sandor didn’t even want to own a bakery but it had been a dream of his sisters and ,although Sandor would die before admitting it, he would do anything for her.

A small hand curled around his shoulder, rubbing against the tightened muscle, pulling him to face her. Sansa looked up at him, big blue eyes that didn’t flinch or shy away at his snarl.

‘I’m not going to let them take the bakery away’ She stated, no doubt in her voice, ‘I am going to help’


	2. blank check

Sandor ripped away from her touch, a deep scowl contorted his cheeks. ‘I don’t accept charity princess’

‘Then it’s good I’m not offering it’ Sansa sniffed, her eyes piercing into Sandor's almost daring him to contradict her.

‘Then what are you offering’ His growl did nothing to intimidate Sansa and a look of surprise took over his features when she raised one groomed eyebrow.

‘I’ll pay the Lannisters-’

‘That sounds an awful lot like charity’

Sansa placed her hands on her hips, doing a perfect impression of her mother when Arya or Jon were found sneaking in late at night, and furrowed her brow, ‘If you would just listen and stop interrupting then you would know that it isn’t charity’ He motioned for her to continue, ‘I will pay the Lannisters if you make me a partner’

‘What do you know about running a business little bird’ He didn’t seem to be doubting her abilities but genuinely curious. He felt a tugging on his trouser leg, Caelum was attempting to climb up but was unable. Sansa glanced down and gathered her nephew into her arms.

‘I can help you build up customers, advertisement and popularity’ Caelum pulled at her hair, ‘I worked at my father's business when I was in school, I can help with paperwork if you need it’

‘I’ll think about it’ Sandor didn’t say anything else, just turned away from Sansa. He could be heard banging around in the back room, and then he reappeared, a pink brush ready to clear the mess that he had made. Despite his words, Sandor knew that he would agree to Sansa’s terms but he thought that it wouldn’t be right to make the decision without first talking to his sister, the place was technically hers after all.

‘Well think fast’ She got herself and Caelum ready to leave, gathering the cakes, glad that she had moved them to the table so they hadn’t been destroyed in his fury, finished the last of her drink and slipped a piece of paper across the counter, ‘text me when you decide’

‘Bye Sandy!’ Caelum waved as they moved away from him, grinning when he received a small half smile and nod in return. He then looked up at his auntie and unsuccessfully tried to whisper, ‘I like Sandy’

‘Yeah me too Monkey’ Sansa shot Sandor a tight smile, her pale skin quickly deepening to a deep maroon.

She left without another word, leaving Sandor surrounded with the evidence of his anger scattered around him. He picked up the paper, it was delicate beneath his gripped fingers, her soft cursive was every bit as ladylike as herself. Sandor began stroking his index finger across her name unconsciously, before folding so carefully one could imagine it was a sacred letter not a hastily written number from some redhead he barely knew.

Sandor spent the rest of the day searching various websites in search of cake trays similar to the ones he had broken, hopefully, ones that could be delivered today, before his sister got home from school and lectured him about being angry, which was fairly useless in all honesty as her lectures always made him angry. He was a fully grown man, he did not need his teenage sister berating him for his misdeeds. He gave up with his quest for the perfect glass trays and settled for some pastel coloured metal ones that came with glass covers, they wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow but it wasn’t likely that there would be anyone arriving apart from Sansa anyway.

‘Sandor’ His little sister waltzed into the bakery. Emelia was a striking young woman, she was tall, taller than most at her age, having just reached five-foot-eight, but it was not just her height that intimidated others, she had a large personality, being naturally loud and boisterous. Where Sandor would shy away from social situations and the only confrontations he had ended in blood being spilt, Emelia loved to converse and her favourite past time was a heated discussion. Emelia had no problem with telling other people exactly what she thought of them, and their beliefs, making her rather difficult to converse with but Sandor appreciated her honesty, much preferred to the mindless waffle of people trying to spare each other's feelings.

His beloved sister shot one sweeping look around the room before directing a glare at Sandor, ‘What have you done?’ She snarled at him. _At him _.__ He taught her how to snarl and now she was trying to intimidate him with his own moves. Preposterous.

‘Nothing’ He snapped back, not wanting to deal with her attitude.

Emelia’s glare softened for a moment before she saw the letter Joffrey had delivered earlier today, Sandor had meant to hide it from her as he had the other three. ‘Sandor, that’s a final demand letter’

‘Yes’

‘When did it arrive?’

‘Today, we have till Monday to pay them’ Sandor sunk lower in his seat, knowing the rage he was about to face he quickly added, ‘but I have a solution’ he had expected her to cut in some disdain filled comment but when she kept quiet he continued, ‘someone had offered to pay the Lannisters if in return we let them run it with us’

‘You said yes’ Emelia nodded, then directed a glare at him ‘right?’

‘I just wanted to run it past you first, I’ll text her’

 

As soon as Sansa got confirmation from Sandor that he would, in fact, be wanting her help, and just how much _help_ he would, she phoned her father, hoping to get his approval for removing the large amount from her trust fund. It didn’t take long for her father to agree, after the usual interrogation of whether she really though it was a smart idea Sansa explained how the product was amazing but they needed some help with their presentation and service, and how she would love to be the one to help, and her father did say that he thought it was a good idea.

Sansa had invited Sandor to her apartment the next day so he could pick up the money and begin to discuss the first steps they would take to invite more people into the bakery. She was just finishing up with one of her own customers when Sandor arrived, a deep scowl already marring his features.

‘Can you just wait here, my meeting had ran over’ She only received a short nod in response but she didn’t bother to wait for a different one and hurried back to her office.

‘Sorry about that’ Sansa painted on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, she sat back at her desk ‘Where were we?’

‘We were just picking a theme’ Sansa’s newest customer was a middle ages women who was planning a birthday party for her eight year old son. They had already decided that the party would take place at the local swimming pool and the boys mother, Melinda, had invited everyone in year four. Her son loved superhero’s and his mother bought him a Hulk costume for his birthday.

‘Well we could make it Marvel based so he can wear his new costume’

After Melinda finally left, only forty minutes after she was supposed to leave, Sansa found Sandor skimming his fingers over the books in his bookshelf. He rested on a first edition of Gaston Leroux’s Phantom Of The Opera. He couldn’t help but compare himself to Erik, if only he could wear a mask everyday, spare people the hassle of pretending not to stare.

‘Sandor’ Her voice startled him and he retracted himself quickly, moving away from the books as if they had stung his fingertips. ‘I have some ideas of how to get more business’

‘go on then’ He slumped into the armchair, some floral monstrosity with bubble wrap around the wooden arms, her cheeks flushed when he picked at the plastic.

‘Well more advertisement would be very helpful, maybe a name’

‘We have a name’ He muttered, Emelia had chosen a name before they had bought the bakery  but there wasn’t enough money to buy a sign, ‘Hounds hankering’

‘Why?’

He stared into her, scowling slightly. Sandor was clearly debating whether or not to share. He decided not and muttered that his sister had chosen it. Sansa sensed there was more to the story but let it slide.

‘If that’s everything I need to go’ Sandor stood ready to leave before he remembered the real reason he came, ‘I need that money’

Sansa nodded wordlessly, hurrying to her bedroom. Where the rest of her apartment was cluttered and bright, her bedroom was neat, with pastel tones. Her bed sat in the corner, one side pressed against the wall so when Jeyne came to stay she had to climb over here during the night.There was a thick rug across the wooden floor, so lush that Sansa could burrow her bare feet into the faux fur that went up to her ankles. She had written the check the night before and placed it, oh so meticulously, in her night stand, in an envelope with _Sandor Clegane_ written in bright red gel pen. She rushed back as quickly as she could without full out running.

‘uh’ Sandor was already stood at the door, his coat in his hand, ‘here it is. I didn’t know who to write it out to so I left it blank’

He didn’t say any more but nodded and left as soon as he had the check, as if he was running away from her. Sansa thought that maybe he was.


	3. Just a child

It was three days until Sandor saw Sansa again. Not that he was counting. Three days, sixteen hours and twenty-five minutes since her citron scent had filled his senses. Not that he was counting. Sandor had ran down to the bakery, putting a pile of fresh lemon cakes on the counter. Not because he had seen her red hair waving in the breeze from his bedroom window but because he did so every morning. And he had told Emelia as much when she had dared to suggest such things, but she had not believed him, that knowing grin that infuriated Sandor so much was still carved into her cheeks when she had disappeared to their flat, mere seconds before Sansa entered.

‘Good morning Sandor!’ She was chirpy, what had made her so bloody happy at half eight in the morning on a Saturday. Sandor just grunted in response. ‘Isn’t it nice today’

‘What is so bloody nice about it’ Sandor growls, his scowl deepening at her oblivious grin.

‘The sun is shining, you are about to give me the best lemon cakes known to mankind and I have joined a new budding business, what isn’t nice about that’ She had settled at a table, pulling a ring binder from her bag.

Sandor doesn’t respond but sits opposite her, placing the plate of cakes on the table. She had some nerve, not coming for days then acting as if nothing was wrong. He knew, of course, that it was stupid to be angry at her as she had no obligation to him but nevertheless he __was__  angry with her. She was unaware of his anger, though, whittling on about something or other.

‘-and then we could’ Her eyes narrowed in an attempt to be intimidating, ‘you have no idea what I’m saying do you?’

‘no, little bird, I do not’ He shrugs, not seeing the point in pretending.

‘Where’s your sister?’ Sansa realises that her question may seem random to someone who hadn’t been listening to her, ‘She is going to be involved in all changes, is she not?’

‘Uh yeah, ’ He stands, towering over her. His stature doesn’t make his movement clumsy or awkward, he moves with the kind of looming grace that he has mastered all his life. He shouts, his voice deep and booming. ‘Emelia!’

There is a thundering of footsteps and there she was. While standing no way near the height of her brother, Emelia was tall, taller than Sansa even, who towered over other girls her age herself, and she had brown hair cut to her shoulders and fell in thick waves. She was wearing dark jeans and a vest, exposing arms with muscles to rival most men.

‘Hi, Emelia was it?’ Sansa was at her side in seconds, that trademark smile plastered on, she brushes imaginary dirt from her skirt, ‘I’m Sansa.’

‘Yea, I know. Sandor talks about you all the time’ A smirk fills her rounded cheeks when she receives an elbow to the ribs for her words. ‘you know, being our only customer and then saving us’

Truthfully, Sandor hadn’t spoken of Sansa. Emelia had just known when the red headed goddess had been dancing through his mind, her pink skirts and long tresses flying through the air. His face did not betray his thoughts but his usually dark ash eyes became a warm pearl shade, and the right side of his mouth may have twitched slightly, resembling the half smile that pulled at the burnt half of his face, distorting the scarred flesh into a gruesome stretch. Sandor rarely gifted anyone with his smiles but in the months that Sansa had been visiting the bakery they became more frequent and Emelia had seen him a few times, seemingly smiling to himself.

‘Well I have brought some ideas for ways to increase customers’ Sansa spoke softly, her eyes drifting every now and again to Sandor who still hadn’t moved from the doorway, just behind his sister, ‘I know that your brother wishes for you to be involved’

‘Well, it is her bakery’ Sandor rumbled, shifting his feet slightly, a horrible squeaking of the rubber sole on the tiled floor. When he lifted his eyes from his battered boots he answered Sansa’s questioning stare, ‘It was Emelia’s dream, I am just looking after it until she finishes school’

‘I just finished my last year but I am doing a summer program’ Emelia smiles warmly, exposing white teeth, slightly too big for her mouth that still managed to match her perfectly, ‘So, what ideas do you have?’

Sansa seemed to shake with excitement, practically running back to the table, furrowing her eyebrows slightly when Sandor and Emelia dawdled their way over. ‘I have some contracts that will make me officially co-owner, then we can look at the designs I have’ She was trifling through her folder, quickly snapping her gaze to the siblings, self-doubt clear in her eyes, ‘Is that alright?’ Sandor nodded but said nothing else, just wanting to get it over with. ‘Now that that is over and done with, I have drawn up some designs for the sign, unless you have any plans already that is’ When the Clegane siblings confirmed that they didn’t, Sansa reopening her binder, a pale lilac colour with white stars that matched her dress perfectly. She pulled three sheets out, laying them in front of her new business partners. The first was simple, bold black letters for the main sign and the outline of a sitting dog for the logo, the second design had large cursive script in white that would stand a few inches off the wall and the logo was a watercolour of a dog's head, the final design was in rough handwriting, tall and spiked in a warm grey shade, the logo a black and white set of jaws. Sandor and Emelia settled on the third option, agreeing that the first was too simple and the second was too feminine for somewhere that would have Sandor working behind the counter regularly. Sandor also said that he would be willing to paint the inside of the bakery the pale mint, almost white, colour that Emelia had chosen from Sansa’s samples. Sansa had brought at least a thousand fucking colour swatches and Sandor was done with looking at them, __who the fuck needs 30 different shades of white,__ they all looked the same so Sandor left them to it, offering to make lunch for them all as an excuse to get away.

Emelia turned a predatory smile at Sansa when they could no longer hear her brothers footsteps, ‘So, you're the reason I wake to the smell of lemon every morning’

‘Well you do own a bakery’ Sansa smiled but her cheeks had gone a horrible bright red, __Sandor wouldn’t really make lemon cakes just for her,__ She reasoned to herself.

‘Well yeah we do but you are the only customer we have, everything we sell is just for you’ Sansa’s blush deepened when she realised her thoughts were so self-conceited, not everything happens because of Sansa Stark.

‘Uh, yeah, of course’ Sansa tried to ignore the way her stomach had flipped at the thought of Sandor doing something just for her and focus on the job at hand, they had already agreed to host a renovation party where they could show off the bakery, along with its changes. Sansa and Emelia were going to be giving out leaflets with vouchers for the next week in preparation for the party that would be held the next Saturday. Sansa had another hour until Robb was going to pick her up so, with Emelia’s help, she began to draw up designs for the leaflets. Sandor slouched in his chair, watching but not adding his own input, at most nodding when asked a question.

Robb had arrived fifteen minutes early, waiting outside for a few minutes before Sandor realised, thinking that it was just some student sitting beneath the canopy. Sansa laughed explaining who it was before letting him in.

‘You should have phoned me dummy’ Robb shook his head, perfectly impersonating his pet, summer, with beads of water flying from his dark mop of hair. Sansa attempted futilely to protect the few remaining lemon cakes from the dirty rain water. ‘Move it would you’

‘Sorry Sans’ Robbs obnoxious smile made him look anything but apologetic, ‘So who are your friends?’

‘Sandor, Emelia, this is my brother, Robb’ Sansa blushed at the raised eyebrows Robb directed at Sansa when she faltered slightly over Sandor’s name, ‘ignore every word that comes out his mouth. Everybody else does’

‘I am wounded, dear sister’

‘Shut up Robb’

Thankfully Robb turned his attention away from his sibling, choosing to focus on the two strangers who sat staring at him, ‘Mother said that you are more than welcome to join us at the celebratory dinner’

‘what dinner?’ Sansa shot a look at Robb, nobody had told her about any dinner.

‘Mum said she was going to phone you last night’

‘She didn’t’

‘Oh’ Robb scraped the back of his hand against his jaw, ‘Everyone is coming down tomorrow to celebrate

‘Everyone?’

‘Yeah, Mum, Dad, Arya, Bran, Rickon’

‘I thought Rickon was in military school until September?’ Sansa’s youngest brother had been sent away for the summer because of what their mother described as __a blatant disregard for authority,__  what the rest of the Stark children referred to as a backbone.

‘No he got kicked out for sleeping with the sergeant's daughter’ Robb stated it as if he had just told Sansa he was out of milk.

‘He’s fifteen!’ Sansa was appalled by her baby brother, he was just a child! Sandor and Robb just laughed at her discomfort, Sandors deep and rumbling, Robbs light and joy-filled. Sansa turned to Emelia for moral support but just received a noncommittal shrug in response.

‘You’ll never guess who he was shagging!’ Robb gasped through his laughter, continuing with Sansa’s dark glare, ‘Uncle Robert’s niece!’

‘You mean Shireen, Stannis’ daughter’ All she could see in her mind was her baby brother, as an eight-year-old with another child but this time was Stannis’ face. One of the most disturbing things that Sansa could have done without imagining. ‘Isn’t she like eighteen’

‘Yeah that's the one’ Robb was still laughing at Sansa’s disgusted expression.

Robb refused to leave the bakery until Sandor and Emelia agreed to go to dinner with them tomorrow, eventually, they relented. Sansa was going to go to the bakery at six the following day, where Bran and Jojen would pick them up and take them to the restaurant.


	4. forever

Sansa ushered Melinda, her latest and hopefully final client, out the door. The impromptu meeting had been organised because Melinda’s son had decided,, two days before his party, that he didn’t want a superhero party any more but he wanted a race car themed birthday party. Sansa had been forced to reorganise the entire party, including the venue, which was an almost impossible feat so close to the day.

It was already half four and Sansa was rushing around her apartment, beginning to run a bath while she rummaged through her wardrobe, clothes falling in a large arc around her,a mix of pale blues and deep greens. Although it was only dinner with her family Sansa was determined to look as good as possible, choosing a monotone striped dress that flared at her waist, falling a few inches above her knee and her favourite pair of black heels that she knew made her legs look even longer. She presented her outfit on her bed, matching several bags with it before she decided on the deep red one that her mum had gotten her for her twenty first birthday. Sansa jumped from her bed, the sound of the bath water reminding her of the flood risk in her bathroom. The bath was half filled with steaming water but with no time to spare Sansa quickly makd a pile of her clothes in one corner of the room and sunk into the bath tub. The bathroom was one of the main reasons Sansa had chosen this apartment, the claw foot bathtub stood in the centre of the room, the floor tiles forming a pale green circle around it,there was also a shower,behind a partition wall so it wasn’t visible to the rest of the bathroom. The bathroom was Sansa’s favourite part of the house and she would normally lay in the bath until the water had become frigid and her flesh was covered with goosebumps, but today she acted quickly and was out in twenty minutes with one towel wrapped around her shoulders and another around her head. She made short work of her hair and make-up, settling for simple waves and minimal coverage, using only mascara and eyeliner, her mother always complained when she went out with a full face. Sansa hurried with her outfit, knowing that she didn’t have long until she would have to leave, she pulled her dress over her hair carefully, opening the neck wide enough to fit two heads through just to sure that there wasn’t any chance of smudging or ruffling.Keeping an eye on the time, Sansa finished getting dressed and packed her bag with her phone,keys, charger and a pair of boat shoes for when her feet, inevitability, became too blistered from her ridiculous heels, and began her walk to Hounds Hankering.

 

Sandor hated dressing up, his large frame meant that he could rarely find shirts that fit him and often had to settle for one that threatened to burst open with his every breath, he did have one shirt that fit him, it had been made for his measurements when his parents had died, that was a feew years ago though and he had grown since then but it was unlikely to break open unless he stretched his arms behind his back. It wasn’t ideal but it was the best he had. Emelia had been ready for an hour already and had made herself comfortable at the head of his bed.

‘wear the blue blazer’ Emelia didn’t look up from her phone ‘the black one is too tight’

‘The blue one is too short’ Sandor didn’t own many blazers either, he only had three, a blue one that only came two-thirds down his arm, a black one that clung to him like a second skin, and a deep green one that had been his fathers. Sandor had never worn the green one, and he didn’t intend to, ‘I’ll wear my jacket’

Sandor only owned one everyday jacket, a deep brown, almost black, leather jacket. He hadn’t worn it in so long that it smelt like dust, Sandor preferred to layer t-shirts rather than wear jackets or coats that added unnecessary bulk to his already inconvenient stature. Wearing clothes that made him appear even bigger just seemed to go against everything that Sandor was trying to do, the bigger he seemed the more people avoided him. Not long after his parents had died Sandor had to go to Emelia’s school to change her documents as he became her guardian and the headteacher had seemed terrified the whole time, and he even went as far as to walk Sandor out of the school a different way so he wouldn’t be seen by any of the children. It was understandable really, he didn’t want to give any of the kids nightmares because of his scars.Sandor understood children staring or being upset by his scars but whenever adults would make a big deal about them he tended to glare and growl until they backed off. Probably not the most refined response but adults should have better manners.

‘Its alright I guess, not very high brow though’

‘Sandor Clegane doesn’t do high brow’ Sandor chuckles deeply,making shoo movements at his sister ‘come on Sansa will be here in a minute’ Without waiting for her response, he made his way downstairs, his boots dragging against the metal steps.

Sandor had barely stepped into the bakery when Sansa knocked on the glass door. She was a vision, as always, with her ochre hair, a deep red with warm undertones, flowing to her waist, and her radiant cobalt eyes seemed to sparkle more than usual, reflecting her joy at seeing her family. Sandor hurried to let her in, drinking her in as she edged her way in.

‘wow’ Sandor could not think of the words to describe her, he did not believe there were enough words to describeSansa Stark, ‘uh-you-so’ Words dammit, ‘you look nice’ __nice?__ was that all he could come up with, mentally kicking himself he tried to fix, ‘not nice, well yes you do look nice but more than nice’

Sansa giggled and decided to let him out of his misery , ‘you look more than nice too’ She turned to Emelia, ‘You look great too’ As much as Sandor hated to admit it, his sister did look beautiful. She was wearing white trousers that sat at her waist and fell mid calf, making her tanned skin stand out, and a black vest , __if it could be called that__ , that left a inch of skin between it and her trousers. It exposed more curves than Sandor was willing to admit she had and he was wishing that she was still the gangly, awkward pre-teen he saw last time her properly looked at her.

‘I could say the same’ Emelia smiled warmly, making her even more beautiful despite her brothers wishes.

It didn’t take long for Sansa’s brother to arrive, Brendon or Brandon or something like that. The other boy, Jojen, drove them. Sansa said something about her brother being a cripple, a rock climbing accident of some sort. They seemed nice enough, kind of quiet and thoughtful but they didn’t shoot any judgemental stares at Sandor so in his eyes they were alright. Sansa spent the drive chirping away about anything she could think of, sometimes trying to pull others into the conversation but mostly just directed at her brother. It seemed like an eternity being squashed into the car until they parked, then it felt like a minute since they had left the bakery. The resturant was nice enough, a bit fancy for Sandors taste but Sansa and Emelia seemed to like it, judging by their awe filled looks. The group was led to the back of the resturant, where the rest of the party were already sat. Sandor struggled to remember what Sansa had told him of her family, there was her parents Ned, with the salt and pepper beard, and Catelyn, who was like looking at a future Sansa, then Robb who he met yesterday, with his boyfriend, Theon, and the tyke, Caelum, with his mother, Sansa’s sister, Arya. There was one more, Rickon,the little lady killer, but he was no where to be seen.

Sansa must have noticed this too as she faltered before reaching the table, ‘Where’s Rickon?’

‘He’s gone to get some fresh air’ Her father responds, a tight smile defying his words.

Theon was the one to reveal what the youngest Stark was really up to, ‘He’s gone for a smoke, probably on the phone to his lover’ he dragged out the last word to make it into an irritating jape.

‘Theon, do be quiet’ Catelyn snapped, her eyebrows pinched above narrowed eyes.

Sansa rushed to kiss her parents, then settled into the seat closest to her, leaving a space on either side, Sandor sat between her and Caelum, who had a bright orange booster seat strapped to the regular one so he would sit level with the table, and Emelia sat to her other side, next to the walking joke, Theon. Bran and Jojen sat next to Ned and Catelyn, leaving space for Rickon. They all sat in a large circle, so whenever Sandor looked up he met Catelyn’s gaze.

‘Sandy!’ Caelum laughs when Sandor settles next to him and stretches out a tiny hand to touch the scared flesh in the same way he did the last time they met, ‘still messy’

‘I know bud’ Sandor chuckled but his left cheek had gone a deep maroon.

‘Remember Cael, forever’ Sansa cooed, reaching her delicate fingers across to touch her nephews wrist.

‘forever’ the young boy mumbled to himself, trying the word out a few times before nodding determinately.


End file.
